WINCHESTER
1862, May That week in May when the Army of the Valley marched back to
the Shenandoah was almost the darkest in the Confederate annals. The
Northern armies, improving daily in discipline and in efficiency, had
attained an ascendency which it seemed impossible to withstand. In
every quarter of the theatre of war success inclined to the Stars and
Stripes. At the end of April New Orleans, the commercial metropolis of
the South, had fallen to the Federal navy. Earlier in the month a great
battle had been fought at Shiloh, in Tennessee; one of the most trusted
of the Confederate commanders had been killed;[1] his troops, after a
gallant struggle, had been repulsed with fearful losses; and the upper
portion of the Mississippi, from the source to Memphis, had fallen
under the control of the invader. The wave of conquest, vast and
irresistible, swept up every navigable river of the South; and if in
the West only the outskirts of her territory were threatened with
destruction, in Virginia the roar of the rising waters was heard at the
very gates of Richmond. McClellan, with 112,000 men, had occupied West
Point at the head of the York River; and on May 16 his advance reached
the White House, on the Pamunkey, twenty miles from the Confederate
capital. McDowell, with 40,000 men, although still north of the
Rappahannock, was but five short marches distant.[2]
The Federal gunboats were steaming up the James; and Johnston’s army,
encamped outside the city, was menaced by thrice its numbers.
So black was the situation that military stores had already been
removed from the capital, the archives of the Confederacy had been
packed, and Mr. Davis had made arrangements for the departure of his
family. In spite of the protests of the Virginia people the Government
had decided to abandon Richmond. The General Assembly addressed a
resolution to the President requiring him to defend the city, if
necessary, “until not a stone was left upon another.” The City Council,
enthusiastically supported by the citizens, seconded the appeal. A
deputation was sent to Mr. Davis; but while they conferred together, a
messenger rode in with the news that the mastheads of the Federal fleet
could be seen from the neighbouring hills. Davis dismissed the
committee, saying: “This manifestly concludes the matter.”
The gunboats, however, had still to feel their way up the winding
reaches of the James. Their progress was very slow; there was time to
obstruct the passage, and batteries were hastily improvised. The people
made a mighty effort; and on the commanding heights of Drewry’s Bluff,
six miles below the city, might be seen senators and merchants, bankers
and clergymen, digging parapets and hauling timber, in company with
parties of soldiers and gangs of slaves. Heavy guns were mounted. A
great boom was constructed across the stream. When the ships approached
they were easily driven back, and men once more breathed freely in the
streets of Richmond. The example of the “Unterrified Commonwealth,” as
Virginia has been proudly named, inspired the Government, and it was
determined, come what might, that Richmond should be held. On the land
side it was already fortified. But Lee was unwilling to resign himself
to a siege. McClellan had still to cross the Chickahominy, a stream
which oozes by many channels through treacherous swamps and an
unwholesome jungle; and despite the overwhelming
numbers of the invading armies, it was still possible to strike an
effective blow.
Few would have seen the opportunity, or, with a great army thundering
at the gates of Richmond, have dared to seize it; but it was not
McClellan and McDowell whom Lee was fighting, not the enormous hosts
which they commanded, nor the vast resources of the North. The power
which gave life and motion to the mighty mechanism of the attack lay
not within the camps that could be seen from the housetops of Richmond
and from the hills round Fredericksburg. Far away to the north, beyond
the Potomac, beneath the shadow of the Capitol at Washington, was the
mainspring of the invader’s strength. The multitudes of armed men that
overran Virginia were no more the inanimate pieces of the chess-board.
The power which controlled them was the Northern President. It was at
Lincoln that Lee was about to strike, at Lincoln and the Northern
people, and an effective blow at the point which people and President
deemed vital might arrest the progress of their armies as surely as if
the Confederates had been reinforced by a hundred thousand men.
May 16 On May 16 Lee wrote to Jackson: “Whatever movement you make
against Banks, do it speedily, and if successful drive him back towards
the Potomac, and create the impression, as far as possible, that you
design threatening that line.” For this purpose, in addition to Ewell
and Johnson’s forces, the Army of the Valley was to be reinforced by
two brigades, Branch’s and Mahone’s, of which the former had already
reached Gordonsville.
In this letter the idea of playing on the fears of Lincoln for the
safety of his capital first sees the light, and it is undoubtedly to be
attributed to the brain of Lee. That the same idea had been uppermost
in Jackson’s mind during the whole course of the campaign is proved not
only by the evidence of his chief of the staff, but by his
correspondence with headquarters. “If Banks is defeated,” he had
written on April 5, “it may directly retard McClellan’s movements.” It
is true that nowhere in his correspondence
is the idea of menacing Washington directly mentioned, nor is there the
slightest evidence that he suggested it to Lee. But in his letters to
his superiors he confines himself strictly to the immediate subject,
and on no single occasion does he indulge in speculation on possible
results. In the ability of the Commander-in-Chief he had the most
implicit confidence. “Lee,” he said, “is the only man I know whom I
would follow blindfold,” and he was doubtless assured that the
embarrassments of the Federal Government were as apparent to Lee as to
himself. That the same idea should have suggested itself independently
to both is hardly strange. Both looked further than the enemy’s camps;
both studied the situation in its broadest bearings; both understood
the importance of introducing a disturbing element into the enemy’s
plans; and both were aware that the surest means of winning battles is
to upset the mental equilibrium of the opposing leader.
Before he reached Mount Solon Jackson had instructed Ewell to call up
Branch’s brigade from Gordonsville. He intended to follow Banks with
the whole force at his disposal, and in these dispositions Lee had
acquiesced. Johnston, however, now at Richmond, had once more resumed
charge of the detached forces, and a good deal of confusion ensued.
Lee, intent on threatening Washington, was of opinion that Banks should
be attacked. Johnston, although at first he favoured such a movement,
does not appear to have realised the effect that might be produced by
an advance to the Potomac. Information had been received that Banks was
constructing intrenchments at Strasburg, and Johnston changed his mind.
He thought the attack too hazardous, and Ewell was directed to cross
the Blue Ridge and march eastward, while Jackson “observed” Banks.
These orders placed Ewell in a dilemma. Under instructions from Lee he
was to remain with Jackson. Under instructions from Jackson he was
already moving on Luray. Johnston’s orders changed his destination.
Taking horse in haste he rode across the Valley from Swift Run Gap to
Jackson’s camp at Mount Solon. Jackson at once telegraphed to Lee: “I
am of opinion
that an attempt should be made to defeat Banks, but under instructions
from General Johnston I do not feel at liberty to make an attack.
Please answer by telegraph at once.” To Ewell he gave orders that he
should suspend his movement until a reply was received. “As you are in
the Valley district,” he wrote, “you constitute part of my command. . .
. You will please move so as to encamp between New Market and Mount
Jackson on next Wednesday night, unless you receive orders from a
superior officer and of a date subsequent to the 16th instant.”
[Illustration: Map of the Situation on May 18th, 1862.]
This order was written at Ewell’s own suggestion. It was for this he
had ridden through the night to Jackson’s camp.
May 18 Lee’s reply was satisfactory. Johnston had already summoned
Branch to Richmond, but Ewell was to remain; and the next morning, May
18, the Confederates moved forward down the Valley. The two days’ rest
which had been granted to Jackson’s troops had fallen at a useful time.
They had marches to look back on which had tried their endurance to the
utmost. In three days, before and after Kernstown, they had covered
fifty-six miles, and had fought a severe engagement. The struggle with
the mud on the Port Republic was only surpassed by the hardships of the
march to Romney. From Elk Run to Franklin, and from Franklin to Mount
Solon, is just two hundred miles, and these they had traversed in
eighteen days. But the exertions which had been then demanded from them
were trifling in comparison with those which were to come. From Mount
Solon to Winchester is eighty miles by the Valley pike; to Harper’s
Ferry one hundred and ten miles. And Jackson had determined that before
many days had passed the Confederate colours should be carried in
triumph through the streets of Winchester, and that the gleam of his
camp-fires should be reflected in the waters of the Potomac.
Johnston believed that Banks, behind the earthworks at Strasburg, was
securely sheltered. Jackson saw that his enemy had made a fatal
mistake, and that his earthworks, skilfully and strongly constructed as
they were, were no more than a snare and a delusion.
Ashby had already moved to New Market; and a strong cordon of pickets
extended along Pugh’s Run near Woodstock, within sight of the Federal
outposts, and cutting off all communication between Strasburg and the
Upper Valley. Ewell’s cavalry regiments, the 2nd and 6th Virginia, held
the Luray Valley, with a detachment east of the Blue Ridge.
May 20 On the 20th Jackson arrived at New Market, thirty miles from
Mount Solon. Ewell had meanwhile marched to Luray, and the two wings
were now on either side of the Massanuttons. On his way to New Market
Jackson had been joined by the Louisiana brigade of Ewell’s division.
This detachment seems to have been made with the view of inducing Banks
to believe, should information filter through Ashby’s pickets, that the
whole Confederate force was advancing direct on Strasburg.
The Army of the Valley numbered nearly 17,000 officers and men.[3]
Ewell’s effective strength was 7,500; Johnson’s 2,500; Jackson’s 6,000;
and there were eleven batteries.
The troops were now organised in two divisions:—
JACKSON’S DIVISION
First (Stonewall) Brigade, General Winder: 2nd Virginia, 4th
Virginia, 5th Virginia, 27th Virginia, 33rd Virginia.
Second Brigade, Colonel Campbell: 21st Virginia, 42nd Virginia,
48th Virginia, 1st Regulars (Irish).
Third Brigade, Colonel Taliaferro: 10th Virginia, 23rd Virginia,
37th Virginia.
Cavalry, Colonel Ashby: 7th Virginia.
Artillery: 5 batteries (1 horse-artillery), 22 guns.
EWELL’S DIVISION
Taylor’s Brigade: 6th Louisiana, 7th Louisiana, 8th Louisiana, 9th
Louisiana, Wheat’s Battalion (Louisiana Tigers).
Trimble’s Brigade: 21st North Carolina, 21st Georgia, 15th Alabama,
16th Mississippi.
Elzey’s Brigade and Scott’s Brigade: 13th Virginia, 31st Virginia,
25th Virginia, 12th Georgia. (late Johnson’s), 44th Virginia, 52nd
Virginia, 58th Virginia.
Maryland Line: 1st Maryland.
Cavalry, General G. H. Steuart: 2nd Virginia, Colonel Munford: 6th
Virginia, Colonel Flournoy.
Artillery: 6 batteries, 26 guns.
For the first time in his career Jackson found himself in command of a
considerable force. The greater part of the troops were Virginians, and
with these he was personally acquainted. The strange contingents were
Taylor’s and Trimble’s brigades, and Steuart’s cavalry. These had yet
to be broken to his methods of war and discipline. There was no reason,
however, to fear that they would prove less efficient than his own
division. They had as yet seen little fighting, but they were well
commanded. Ewell was a most able soldier, full of dash and daring, who
had seen much service on the Indian frontier. He was an admirable
subordinate, ready to take responsibility if orders were not
forthcoming, and executing his instructions to the letter. His
character was original. His modesty was only equalled by his
eccentricity. “Bright, prominent eyes, a bomb-shaped bald head, and a
nose like that of Francis of Valois, gave him a striking resemblance to
a woodcock; and this was increased by a bird-like habit of putting his
head on one side to utter his quaint speeches. He fancied that he had
some mysterious internal malady, and would eat nothing but frumenty, a
preparation of wheat; and his plaintive way of talking of his disease,
as if he were someone else, was droll in the extreme. “What do you
suppose President Davis made me a major-general for?” beginning with a
sharp accent, ending with a gentle lisp, was a usual question to his
friends. Superbly mounted, he was the boldest of horsemen, invariably
leaving the roads to take timber and water; and with all his oddities,
perhaps in some measure because of them, he was adored by officers and
men.”[4] To Jackson he must have been peculiarly acceptable; not indeed
as an intimate, for Ewell, at this period of the war, was by no means
regenerate, and swore like a cowboy: but he knew the value of time, and
rated celerity of movement as high as did Napoleon. His instructions to
Branch, when the march against Banks was first projected, might have
emanated from Jackson himself: “You cannot bring tents; tent-flies
without poles, or tents cut down to that size, and only as few as are
indispensable. No mess-chests, trunks, etc. It is better to leave these
things where you are than to throw them away after starting. We can get
along without anything but food and ammunition. The road to glory
cannot be followed with much baggage.”[5]
Trimble, too, was a good officer, an able tactician and a resolute
leader. He had hardly, however, realised as yet that the movements of a
brigade must be subordinated to those of the whole army, and he was
wont to grumble if his troops were held back, or were not allowed to
pursue some local success. Steuart was also a West Pointer, but with
much to learn. Taylor and his Louisianians played so important a part
in the ensuing operations that they deserve more detailed mention. The
command was a mixed one. One of the regiments had been recruited from
the roughs of New Orleans. The 7th and 9th were composed of planters
and sons of planters, the majority of them men of fortune. “The 6th,”
writes the brigadier, “were Irishmen, stout, hardy fellows, turbulent
in camp and requiring a strong hand, but responding to justice and
kindness, and ready to follow their officers to the death. The 8th were
from the Attakapas—Acadians, the race of whom Longfellow sings in
“Evangeline”—a home-loving, simple people; few spoke English, fewer
still had ever moved ten miles from their native cabanas; and the war
to them was a liberal education. They had all the light gaiety of the
Gaul, and, after the manner of their ancestors, were born cooks. A
capital regimental band accompanied them, and whenever weather and
ground permitted, even after long marches, they would waltz and polk in
couples with as much zest as if their arms encircled the supple waists
of the Celestines and Melazies of their native Teche. The Valley
soldiers were largely of the Presbyterian faith, and of a solemn, pious
demeanour,
and looked askance at the caperings of my Creoles, holding them to be
“devices and snares.”’[6]
Taylor himself had been educated at West Point. He was a man of high
position, of unquestioned ability, an excellent disciplinarian, and a
delightful writer. More than other commanders he had paid great
attention to the marching of his men. He had an eye to those practical
details which a good regimental officer enforces with so much effect.
Boots were properly fitted; the troops were taught the advantages of
cold water, and how to heal abrasions; halts upon the march were made
at frequent intervals, and the men soon held that to fall out on the
march was a disgrace. Before a month “had passed,” he says, “the
brigade had learned how to march, and in the Valley with Jackson
covered long distances without leaving a straggler behind.”[7]
Jackson’s first meeting with the Louisiana troops has been described by
their commander:—
“A mounted officer was dispatched to report our approach and select a
camp, which proved to be beyond Jackson’s forces, then lying in the
fields on both sides of the Valley pike. Over 3,000 strong, neat in
fresh clothing of grey with white gaiters, bands playing at the head of
their regiments—not a straggler, but every man in his place, stepping
jauntily as if on parade, though it had marched twenty miles or more—in
open column, with the rays of the declining sun flaming on polished
bayonets, the brigade moved down the hard smooth pike, and wheeled on
to the camping-ground. Jackson’s men, by thousands, had gathered on
either side of the road to see us pass.
“After attending to necessary camp details, I sought Jackson, whom I
had never met. The mounted officer who had been sent on in advance
pointed out a figure perched on the topmost rail of a fence overlooking
the road and field, and said it was Jackson. Approaching, I saluted and
declared my name and rank, then waited for a response. Before this came
I had time to see a pair of
cavalry boots covering feet of gigantic size, a mangy cap with visor
drawn low, a heavy dark beard and weary eyes, eyes I afterwards saw
filled with intense but never brilliant light. A low gentle voice
inquired the road and distance marched that day. ‘Keezleton road,
six-and-twenty miles.’ ‘You seem to have no stragglers.’ ‘Never allow
straggling.’ ‘You must teach my people; they straggle badly.’ A bow in
reply. Just then my Creoles started their band for a waltz. After a
contemplative suck at a lemon, ‘Thoughtless fellows for serious work’
came forth. I expressed a hope that the work would not be less well
done because of the gaiety. A return to the lemon gave me the
opportunity to retire. Where Jackson got his lemons ‘No fellow could
find out,’ but he was rarely without one. To have lived twelve miles
from that fruit would have disturbed him as much as it did the witty
dean.”[8]
May 21 The next day, marching in the grey of the morning, the force
moved north, the Louisianians in advance. Suddenly, after covering a
short distance, the head of the column was turned to the right; and the
troops, who had confidently expected that Strasburg would be the scene
of their next engagement, found themselves moving eastward and crossing
the Massanuttons. The men were utterly at sea as to the intentions of
their commander. Taylor’s brigade had been encamped near Conrad’s
Store, only a few miles distant, not many days before, and they had now
to solve the problem why they should have made three long marches in
order to return to their former position. No word came from Jackson to
enlighten them. From time to time a courier would gallop up, report,
and return to Luray, but the general, absorbed in thought, rode
silently across the mountain, perfectly oblivious of inquiring glances.
At New Market the troops had been halted at crossroads, and they had
marched by that which they had least expected. The camp at Luray on the
21st presented the same puzzle. One road ran east across the mountains
to Warrenton or Culpeper; a second north to Front Royal
and Winchester; and the men said that halting them in such a position
was an ingenious device of Jackson’s to prevent them fathoming his
plans.[9]
May 22 The next day, the 22nd, the army, with Ewell leading, moved
quietly down the Luray Valley, and the advanced guard, Taylor’s
Louisianians, a six-pounder battery, and the 6th Virginia Cavalry,
bivouacked that night within ten miles of Front Royal, held by a strong
detachment of Banks’ small army.
Since they had Left Mount Solon and Elk Run Valley on May 19 the troops
in four days had made just sixty miles. Such celerity of movement was
unfamiliar to both Banks and Stanton, and on the night of the 22nd
neither the Secretary nor the general had the faintest suspicion that
the enemy had as yet passed Harrisonburg. There was serenity at
Washington. On both sides of the Blue Ridge everything was going well.
The attack on Frémont had not been followed up; and McClellan, though
calling urgently for reinforcements, was sanguine of success. Mr.
Lincoln, reassured by Jackson’s retreat from Franklin, had permitted
Shields to march to Falmouth; and McDowell, with a portion of his
troops, had already crossed the Rappahannock. The President of the
Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, an important personage at Washington,
appears to have been alone in his apprehension that a storm was
gathering in the summer sky. “The aspect of affairs in the Valley of
Virginia,” he wrote to Stanton, “is becoming very threatening. . . .
The enterprise and vigour of Jackson are well known. . . . Under the
circumstances will it not be more judicious to order back General
Shields to co-operate with General Banks? Such a movement might be
accomplished in time to prevent disaster.”[10] The Secretary, however,
saw no reason for alarm. His strategical combinations were apparently
working without a hitch. Banks at Strasburg was in a strong position;
and McDowell was about to lend the aid which would enable McClellan to
storm the rebel capital. One of Frémont’s columns, under General Cox, a
most able officer, which was making good progress towards the Virginia
and Tennessee Railroad, had certainly been compelled to halt when
Milroy was driven back to Franklin. Yet the defeated troops were
rapidly reorganising, and Frémont would soon resume his movement.
Milroy’s defeat was considered no more than an incident of _la petite
guerre._ Washington seemed so perfectly secure that the recruiting
offices had been closed, and the President and Secretary, anticipating
the immediate fall of Richmond, left for Fredericksburg the next day.
McDowell was to march on the 26th, and the departure of his fine army
was to be preceded by a grand review.
Even Banks, though Shields had marched to Fredericksburg, reducing his
force by a half, believed that there was no immediate reason to fear
attack. “I regard it as certain,” he wrote, “that Jackson will move
north as far as New Market . . . a position which enables him to
cooperate with General Ewell, who is still at Swift Run Gap.” Yet he
took occasion to remind Mr. Stanton of the “persistent adherence of
Jackson to the defence of the Valley, and his well-known purpose to
expel the Government troops. This,” he added, “may be assumed as
certain. There is probably no one more fixed and determined purpose in
the whole circle of the enemy’s plans.” Banks had certainly learned
something of Jackson by this time, but he did not yet know all.
So on this night of May 22 the President and his people were without
fear of what the morrow might bring forth. The end of the rebellion
seemed near at hand. Washington was full of the anticipated triumph.
The crowds passed to and fro in the broad avenues, exchanging
congratulations on the success of the Northern arms and the approaching
downfall of the slaveholders. The theatres were filled with delighted
audiences, who hailed every scoffing allusion to the “Southern
chivalry” with enthusiasm, and gaiety and confidence reigned supreme.
Little dreamt the light-hearted multitude that, in the silent woods of
the Luray Valley, a Confederate army lay asleep beneath the stars.
Little dreamt Lincoln, or Banks, or Stanton, that
not more than seventy miles from Washington, and less than thirty from
Strasburg, the most daring of their enemies, waiting for the dawn to
rise above the mountains, was pouring out his soul in prayer,
Appealing from his native sod
_In formâ pauperis_ to God:
“Lay bare Thine arm—stretch forth Thy rod.
Amen!” That’s Stonewall’s way.
It is not always joy that cometh in the morning, least of all to
generals as ignorant as Banks when they have to do with a skilful foe.
It was not altogether Banks’ fault that his position was a bad one.
Stanton had given him a direct order to take post at Strasburg or its
vicinity, and to send two regiments to hold the bridges at Front Royal.
But Banks had made no remonstrance. He had either failed to recognise,
until it was too late, that the force at Front Royal would be exposed
to attack from the Luray Valley, and, if the post fell, that his own
communications with both Winchester and Washington would be at once
endangered; or he had lost favour with the Secretary. For some time
past Mr. Stanton’s telegrams had been cold and peremptory. There had
been no more effusive praise of “cautious vigour” and “interesting
manœuvres;” and Banks had gradually fallen from the command of a large
army corps to the charge of a single division.
His 10,000 men were thus distributed. At Strasburg were 4,500 infantry,
2,900 cavalry, and 16 guns. At Winchester 850 infantry and 600 cavalry.
Two companies of infantry held Buckton station on the Manassas Gap
Railway, midway between Strasburg and Front Royal.[11] At Rectortown,
east of the Blue Ridge, nineteen miles from Front Royal, was General
Geary with 2,000 infantry and cavalry; these troops, however, were
independent of Banks.
Front Royal, twelve miles east of Strasburg, was committed to the
charge of Colonel Kenly, of the 1st Maryland Regiment in the Federal
service, and 1,000 rifles and 2 guns were placed at his disposal. The
post itself was
indefensible. To the west and south-west, about three miles distant,
stand the green peaks of the Massanuttons, while to the east the lofty
spurs of the Blue Ridge look down into the village streets. A mile and
a half north the forks of the Shenandoah unite in the broad river that
runs to Harper’s Ferry. The turnpike to Winchester crosses both forks
in succession, at a point where they are divided by a stretch of
meadows a mile in width. In addition to these two bridges, a wooden
viaduct carried the railway over the South Fork, whence, passing
between the North Fork and the Massanuttons, it runs south of the
stream to Strasburg. Kenly had pitched his camp between the town and
the river, covering the bridges, and two companies were on picket
beyond the houses.
In front were the dense forests which fill the Luray Valley and cover
the foothills of the mountains, and the view of the Federal sentries
was very limited. A strong patrol of 100 infantry and 30 troopers,
which had been sent out on the 20th, had marched eleven miles south,
had bivouacked in the woods, and had captured a Confederate straggler.
The officer in command had obtained information, by questioning
civilians, that Confederate infantry was expected, and this was
confirmed by his prisoner. Banks, however, notwithstanding this report,
could not bring himself to believe that an attack was imminent, and the
cavalry was called back to Strasburg. For this reason Kenly had been
unable to patrol to any distance on the 22nd, and the security of his
camp was practically dependent on the vigilance of his sentries.
May 23 On the morning of May 23 there was no token of the approaching
storm. The day was intensely hot, and the blue masses of the mountains
shimmered in the summer haze. In the Luray Valley to the south was no
sign of life, save the buzzards sailing lazily above the slumbrous
woods. Suddenly, and without the least warning, a long line of
skirmishers broke forward from the forest. The clear notes of the
Confederate bugles, succeeded by the crash of musketry, woke the echoes
of the Blue Ridge, and the Federal pickets were driven in
confusion through the village. The long roll of the drums beat the
startled camp to arms, and Kenly hastily drew up his slender force upon
a ridge in rear.
The ground in front of his position was fairly open, and with his two
pieces of artillery he was able to check the first rush of the
Confederate infantry. The guns which had accompanied their advanced
guard were only smooth-bores, and it was some time before a battery
capable of making effective reply to the Federal pieces was brought up.
As soon as it opened fire the Southern infantry was ordered to attack;
and while one regiment, working round through the woods on the enemy’s
left, endeavoured to outflank his guns, four others, in successive
lines, advanced across the plain against his front. The Federals,
undismayed by the disparity of numbers, were fighting bravely, and had
just been reinforced by a squadron of New York regiment, when word was
brought to their commander that a regiment of Southern cavalry had
appeared between the rivers to his right rear. He at once gave the
order to retire. The movement was carried out in good order, under
heavy musketry, and the tents and stores were given to the flames; but
an attempt to fire the bridges failed, for the Louisiana infantry,
rushing recklessly forward, darted into the flames, and extinguished
the burning brands. Sufficient damage was done, however, to render the
passage of the North Fork by the Confederates slow and difficult; and
Kenly took post on Guard Hill, a commanding ridge beyond the stream.
Again there was delay. The smoke of the burning camp, rolling past in
dense volumes, formed an impenetrable screen; the river was deep and
turbulent, with a strong current; and the Federal guns commanded the
single bridge. The cavalry, however, were not long in discovering a
practicable ford. The river was soon alive with horsemen; and, forcing
their way through the swirling waters, four squadrons of the 6th
Virginia, accompanied by Jackson, gained the further bank, and formed
up rapidly for pursuit. The enemy had already retired, and the dust of
the retreating column warn receding fast down the road to Winchester.
Without waiting for reinforcements, and without artillery, Jackson
urged the 6th Virginia forward. The country through which the turnpike
runs is rolling and well-farmed, and the rail fences on either hand
made movement across the fields by no means easy. But the Confederate
advance was vigorous. The New York cavalry, pressed at every point,
were beginning to waver; and near the little hamlet of Cedarville, some
three miles from his last position, Kenly gave orders for his infantry
to check the pursuit.
The column had halted. Men were tearing down the fences, and the
companies were forming for battle in the fields, when there was a
sudden outcry, the rolling thunder of many hoofs, and the sharp rattle
of pistol-shots. A dense cloud of dust came whirling down the turnpike,
and emerging from the yellow canopy the New York troopers, riding for
their lives, dashed through the ranks of the startled infantry, while
the Confederate horsemen, extending far to right and left, came surging
on their traces.
The leading squadron, keeping to the high road, was formed four
abreast, and the deep mass was wedged tightly between the fences. The
foremost files were mowed down by a volley at close range, and here,
for a moment, the attack was checked. But the Virginians meant riding
home. On either flank the supporting squadrons galloped swiftly
forward, and up the road and across the fields, while the earth shook
beneath their tread, swept their charging lines, the men yelling in
their excitement and horses as frenzied as their riders. In vain the
Federal officers tried to deploy their companies. Kenly, calling on
them to rally round the colours, was cut down with a dreadful wound.
The grey troopers fell on them before they could fix bayonets or form a
front, and sabre and revolver found an easy mark in the crowded masses
of panic-stricken infantry. One of the guns was surrounded, and the
gunners were cut to pieces; the other escaped for the moment, but was
soon abandoned; and with the appearance of a fresh Confederate squadron
on the scene Kenly’s whole force dispersed in flight. Through woods and
orchards
the chase went on. Escape was impossible. Hundreds laid down their
arms; and 250 Virginia horsemen, resolutely handled and charging at
exactly the right moment, had the honour of bringing in as prisoners
600 Federals, including 20 officers and a complete section of
artillery. The enemy lost in addition 32 killed and 122 wounded. The
Confederate casualties were 11 killed and 15 wounded, and so sudden and
vigorous was their attack that a Federal colonel estimated their
numbers at 3,000.
Colonel Flournoy, a most daring officer, led the squadrons to the
charge; but that the opportunity was so instantly utilised was due to
Jackson. “No sooner,” says Dabney, “did he see the enemy than he gave
the order to charge with a voice and air whose peremptory determination
was communicated to the whole party. His quick eye estimated aright the
discouragement of the Federals and their wavering temper. Infusing his
own spirit into his men, he struck the hesitating foe at the decisive
moment, and shattered them.”[12] Yet he took no credit to himself. He
declared afterwards to his staff that he had never, in all his
experience of warfare, seen so gallant and effective a charge of
cavalry, and such commendation, coming from his guarded lips, was the
highest honour that his troopers could have wished.
While these events were in progress the remainder of the Confederate
cavalry had also been busy. The 7th Virginia had moved to Buckton. The
railway was torn up, the telegraph line cut, and an urgent message to
Banks for reinforcements was intercepted. The two companies of
Pennsylvania infantry, on picket near the station, occupied a log
storehouse and the embankment. Dismounting his command, Ashby, after a
fierce fight, in which two of his best officers were killed, stormed
the building and drove out the garrison. Two locomotives were standing
on the rails with steam up, and by this means the Federals attempted to
escape. Twice they moved out towards Strasbourg, twice they were driven
back by the Confederate carbines, and eventually the two companies
surrendered.
Jackson’s measures had been carefully thought out. Kenly’s patrols had
failed to discover his advance in the early morning, for at Asbury
Chapel, about three and a half miles south of the Federal outpost line,
he had turned to the right off the Luray road, and plunging into the
woods, had approached Front Royal by a circuitous track, so rough that
the enemy had thought it hardly worth while to watch it. The main body
of the cavalry left the Luray road at McCoy’s Ford, and crossing the
South Fork of the Shenandoah, worked through the forest at the foot of
the Massanuttons. During the night Ashby had withdrawn the 7th
Virginia, with the exception of a few patrols, from in front of Banks,
and joining Jackson, by a rough track across the mountains, before
daybreak, had been directed to cut the communication between Front
Royal and Strasburg. The 6th Virginia had accompanied Jackson, the 2nd,
under Colonel Munford, destroyed the railway bridges eastward of Front
Royal. Had Kenly retreated on Strasburg he would have found Ashby on
his flank. Had reinforcements been despatched from Strasburg they would
have had to deal with Ashby before they could reach Kenly. Had the
Federals attempted to escape by Manassas Gap they would have found
Munford across their path. Meanwhile another party of cavalry had cut
the telegraph between Front Royal and Washington; and a strong
detachment, scouring the country east of the Blue Ridge, checked
Geary’s patrols, and blocked the entrance to the Gap from the direction
of Manassas. Within an hour after his pickets were surprised Kenly was
completely isolated.[13]
A failure in staff duties marred to some extent the Confederate
success. “A vicious usage,” according to Dabney, “obtained at this time
in the Southern armies. This was the custom of temporarily attaching to
the staff of a general commanding a division or an army a company of
cavalry to do the work of orderlies. By this clumsy contrivance the
organisation of the cavalry regiments was broken up, the men detached
were deprived of all opportunity for drill, and the general had no
evidence whatever of their special fitness for the responsible service
confided to them. Nay, the colonel of cavalry required to furnish them
was most likely to select the least serviceable company. At the time of
the combat of Front Royal the duty of orderlies was performed for
General Jackson by a detachment from one of Ashby’s undisciplined
companies, of whom many were raw youths just recruited and never under
fire. As soon as the Federal pickets were driven in, orders were
despatched to the rear brigades to avoid the laborious route taken by
the advance, and to pursue the direct highway to the town, a level
track of three miles, in place of a steep byway of seven or eight. The
panic-struck boy by whom the orders were sent was seen no more. When
Jackson sent orders to the artillery and rear brigades to hurry the
pursuit, instead of being found near at hand, upon the direct road,
they were at length overtaken toiling over the hills of the useless
circuit, spent with the protracted march. Thus night overtook them by
the time they reached the village. This unfortunate incident taught the
necessity of a picked company of orderlies, selected for their
intelligence and courage, permanently attached to headquarters, and
owing no subordination to any other than the general and his staff.
Such was the usage that afterwards prevailed in the Confederate
armies.[14]
General Gordon has described with much minuteness how the news of the
disaster was received at Strasburg. The attack had begun at one
o’clock, but it was not till four that Banks was made aware that his
detachment was in jeopardy. Believing that Jackson was at Harrisonburg,
sixty miles distant, he had certainly no cause for immediate
apprehension. The Valley towards Woodstock never looked more peaceful
than on that sleepy summer afternoon; the sentries dawdled on their
posts, and officers and men alike resigned themselves to its restful
influence. Suddenly a mounted orderly dashed violently through the
camp, and Strasburg was aroused. By the road to Buckton Banks hastily
despatched a regiment and two guns. Then came a lull, and many anxious
inquiries: “What is it? Is it Stonewall Jackson, or only a cavalry
raid?”
A few hours later reports came in from the field of battle, and Banks
telegraphed to Stanton that 5,000 rebels had driven Kenly back on
Middletown. “The force,” he added, “has been gathering in the
mountains, it is said, since Wednesday.”
But still the Federal general showed no undue alarm.
“Nothing was done,” says Gordon, “towards sending away to Winchester
any of the immense quantities of public stores collected at Strasburg;
no movement had been made to place our sick in safety. It did not seem
as if Banks interpreted the attack to signify aught of future or
further movement by the enemy, or that it betokened any purpose to cut
us off from Winchester. I was so fully impressed, however, with
Jackson’s purpose, that as soon as night set in I sought Banks at his
headquarters. I laboured long to impress upon him what I thought a
duty, to wit, his immediate retreat upon Winchester, carrying all his
sick and all his supplies that he could transport, and destroying the
remainder. Notwithstanding all my solicitations and entreaties, he
persistently refused to move, ever repeating, “I must develop the force
of the enemy.”[15]
The force that had been sent out on the Buckton road had been soon
recalled, without securing further information
than that the Confederate pickets were in possession of every road
which led west or north from Front Royal.
Again did Gordon, at the request of Banks’ chief of the staff,
endeavour to persuade the general to abandon Strasburg. “‘It is not a
retreat,’ he urged, ‘but a true military movement to escape from being
cut off; to prevent stores and sick from falling into the hands of the
enemy.’ Moved with an unusual fire, General Banks, who had met all my
arguments with the single reply, “I must develop the force of the
enemy,’ rising excitedly from his seat, with much warmth and in loud
tones exclaimed, ‘By God, sir, I will not retreat! We have more to
fear, sir, from the opinions of our friends than the bayonets of our
enemies!’ The thought,” continues the brigadier, “so long the subject
of his meditations was at last out. Banks was afraid of being thought
afraid. I rose to take my leave, replying, ‘This, sir, is not a
military reason for occupying a false position.’ It was eleven o’clock
at night when I left him. As I returned through the town I could not
perceive that anybody was troubled with anticipation for the morrow.
The antlers were driving sharp bargains with those who had escaped from
or those who were not amenable to military discipline. The strolling
players were moving crowds to noisy laughter in their canvas booths,
through which the lights gleamed and the music sounded with startling
shrillness. I thought as I turned towards my camp, how unaware are all
of the drama Jackson is preparing for us, and what merriment the
morning will reveal!”
Fortunately for his own battalions, the brigadier had his camp equipage
and baggage packed and sent off then and there to Winchester, and
though his men had to spend the night unsheltered under persistent
rain, they had reason to bless his foresight a few nights later.
At midnight a report was received from one of the Front Royal
fugitives: “Kenly is killed. First Maryland cut to pieces. Cavalry
ditto. The enemy’s forces are 15,000 or 20,000 strong, and on the march
to Strasburg.”
In forwarding this despatch to Washington Banks
remarked that he thought it much exaggerated. At 7 a.m. on the 24th he
told Stanton that the enemy’s force was from 6,000 to 10,000; that it
was probably Ewell’s division, and that Jackson was still in his front
on the Valley turnpike.
Three hours later he wrote to Gordon, informing him that the enemy had
fallen back to Front Royal during the night, that ample reinforcements
had been promised from Washington, and that the division would remain
in Strasburg until further orders.
Up to this time he had been convinced that the attack on Front Royal
was merely a raid, and that Jackson would never dare to insert his
whole force between himself and McDowell.[16] Suddenly, by what means
we are not told, he was made aware that the Confederates were in
overwhelming numbers, and that Jackson was in command.
Scarcely had General Gordon digested the previous communication when an
orderly, galloping furiously to his side, delivered a pencil note from
the chief of staff. “Orders have just been received for the division to
move at once to Middletown, taking such steps to oppose the enemy,
reported to be on the road between Front Royal and Middletown, as may
seem proper.” Banks was electrified at last. Three weeks previously, in
writing to Mr. Stanton, he had expressed his regret that he was “not to
be included in active operations during the summer.” His regret was
wasted. He was about to take part in operations of which the activity,
on his part at least, was more than satisfying.
Such blindness as Banks had shown is difficult to explain. His latest
information, previous to the attack on Kenly, told him that Jackson’s
trains were arriving at Harrisonburg on the 20th, and he should
certainly have inferred that Jackson was in advance of his waggons. Now
from Harrisonburg across the Massanuttons to Front Royal is fifty-five
miles; so it was well within the bounds of possibility that the
Confederates might reach the
latter village at midday on the 23rd. Moreover, Banks himself had
recognised that Strasburg was an unfavourable position. It is true that
it was fortified, but therein lay the very reason that would induce the
enemy to turn it by Front Royal. Nor did the idea, which seems to have
held possession of his mind throughout the night, that Ewell alone had
been sent to destroy Kenly, and had afterwards fallen back, show much
strategic insight. Front Royal was the weak point in the Federal
position. It was of all things unlikely that a commander, energetic and
skilful as Jackson was well known to be, would, when he had once
advertised his presence, fail to follow up his first blow with his
whole force and the utmost vigour. It is only fair to add that the
Federal authorities were no wiser than their general. At two a.m. on
the morning of the 24th, although the news of Kenly’s disaster had been
fully reported, they still thought that there was time to move fresh
troops to Strasburg from Baltimore and Washington. It seemed incredible
that Jackson could be at Front Royal. “Arrangements are making,” ran
Stanton’s telegram to Banks, “to send you ample reinforcements. Do not
give up the ship before succour can arrive.”
We may now turn to Jackson.
Up to the present his operations had been perfectly successful. He had
captured over 700 of the enemy, with a loss of only 40 or 50 to
himself. He had seized stores to the value of three hundred thousand
dollars (60,000 pounds), and a large quantity had been burned by the
enemy. He had turned the intrenched position at Strasburg. He
threatened the Federal line of retreat. Banks was completely at his
mercy, and there seemed every prospect of inflicting on that
ill-starred commander a defeat so decisive as to spread panic in the
council chambers of the Northern capital.
But the problem was not so simple as it seemed. In the first place,
although the positions of the Federals had been thoroughly examined,
both by staff officers and scouts, the information as to their numbers
was somewhat vague. Banks had actually about 8000 effectives at
Strasburg;
but so far as the Confederates knew it was quite possible that he had
from 12,000 to 15,000. There is nothing more difficult in war than to
get an accurate estimate of the enemy’s numbers, especially when
civilians, ignorant of military affairs, are the chief sources of
information. The agents on whom Jackson depended for intelligence from
within the enemy’s lines were not always selected because of their
military knowledge. “On the march to Front Royal,” says General Taylor,
“we reached a wood extending from the mountain to the river, when a
mounted officer from the rear called Jackson’s attention, who rode back
with him. A moment later there rushed out of the wood a young, rather
well-looking woman, afterwards widely known as Belle Boyd. Breathless
with speed and agitation, some time elapsed before she found her voice.
Then, with much volubility, she said we were near Front Royal; that the
town was filled with Federals, whose camp was on the west side of the
river, where they had guns in position to cover the bridge; that they
believed Jackson to be west of the Massanuttons, near Harrisonburg;
that General Banks was at Winchester, where he was concentrating his
widely scattered forces to meet Jackson’s advance, which was expected
some days later. All this she told with the precision of a staff
officer making a report, and it was true to the letter. Jackson was
possessed of this information before he left New Market, and based his
movements on it; but it was news to me.”
In the second place, Banks had still the means of escape. He could
hardly prevent the Confederates from seizing Winchester, but he might
at least save his army from annihilation. Jackson’s men were exhausted
and the horses jaded. Since the morning of the 19th the whole army had
marched over eighty, and Ewell’s division over ninety miles. And this
average of seventeen miles a day had been maintained on rough and muddy
roads, crossed by many unbridged streams, and over a high mountain. The
day which had just passed had been especially severe. Ewell, who was in
bivouac at Cedarville, five miles north of Front Royal on the
Winchester
turnpike, had marched more than twenty miles; and Jackson’s own
division, which had made four-and-twenty, was on foot from five in the
morning till nine at night.
Banks’ natural line of retreat led through Winchester, and the
Confederate advanced guard at Cedarville was two miles nearer that town
than were the Federals at Strasburg. But it was still possible that
Banks, warned by Kenly’s overthrow, might withdraw by night; and even
if he deferred retreat until daylight he might, instead of falling back
on Winchester, strike boldly for Front Royal and escape by Manassas
Gap. Or, lastly, he might remain at Strasburg, at which point he was in
communication, although by a long and circuitous road, with Frémont at
Franklin.
Jackson had therefore three contingencies to provide against, and
during the night which followed the capture of Front Royal he evolved a
plan which promised to meet them all. Ashby, at daybreak, was to move
with the 7th Virginia cavalry in the direction of Strasburg; and at the
same hour a staff officer, with a small escort, supported by Taylor’s
Louisianians, was to ride towards Middletown, a village five miles
north of Strasburg and thirteen from Winchester, and to report
frequently. The 2nd and 6th Virginia cavalry, under General Steuart,
were to advance to Newtown, also on the Valley turnpike, and eight
miles from Winchester; while Ewell, with Trimble’s brigade and his
artillery, was to move to Nineveh, two miles north of Cedarville, and
there halt, awaiting orders. The remainder of the command was to
concentrate at Cedarville, preparatory to marching on Middletown; and
strong cavalry patrols were to keep close watch on the Strasburg to
Front Royal road.[17]
6 a.m. From Cedarville to Middletown is no more than seven miles, and
Taylor’s brigade is reported to have moved at six a.m., while Ashby had
presumably already marched. But notwithstanding the fact that Banks’
infantry did not leave Strasburg till ten a.m., and
that it had five miles to cover before reaching Middletown, when the
Confederates reached the turnpike at that village the Federal main body
had already passed, and only the rear-guard was encountered.
It seems evident, therefore, that it was not till near noon that
Jackson’s patrols came in sight of Middletown, and that the Confederate
advanced guard had taken at least six hours to cover seven miles. The
country, however, between Cedarville and the Valley turnpike was almost
a continuous forest; and wood-fighting is very slow fighting. The
advance had met with strong resistance. General Gordon had prudently
sent the 29th Pennsylvania to Middletown at an early hour, with orders
to reconnoitre towards Front Royal, and to cover Middletown until the
army had passed through.
7 a.m. Supported by a section of artillery, the regiment had moved
eastward till it struck the Confederate scouts some four miles out on
the Cedarville road. After a long skirmish it was withdrawn to
Middletown; but the 1st Maine cavalry, and a squadron of the 1st
Vermont, about 400 strong, which had been ordered by Banks to proceed
in the same direction, made a vigorous demonstration, and then fell
back slowly before the advanced guard, showing a bold front, using
their carbines freely, and taking advantage of the woods to impose upon
the enemy.
10.15 a.m. These manœuvres succeeded in holding the Confederates in
check till after ten o’clock, for the heavy timber concealed the real
strength of the Federals, and although Ashby, with the 7th Virginia,
had marched to the scene of action, the infantry was not yet up. It is
to be remembered that at daybreak the Valley army was by no means
concentrated. Jackson had with him at Cedarville only Ewell’s division,
his own division having halted near Front Royal. This last division, it
appears from the reports, did not leave Front Royal until 8 a.m.; a
sufficiently early hour, considering the condition of the men and
horses, the absence of the trains, and the fact that one of the
brigades had bivouacked four miles south of
the village.[18] It was not, then, till between nine and ten that the
column cleared Cedarville, and Middletown was distant nearly three
hours’ march, by an exceedingly bad road.
In all probability, if Jackson, at daybreak or soon afterwards, had
marched boldly on Middletown with Ewell’s division, he would have been
able to hold Banks on the Valley turnpike until the rest of his
infantry and artillery arrived. But he had always to bear in mind that
the Federals, finding their retreat on Winchester compromised, might
make a dash for Manassas Gap. Now the road from Strasburg to Manassas
Gap was protected throughout its length by the North Fork of the
Shenandoah; and to attack the Federals on the march, should they take
this road, the Confederates would have to move through Cedarville on
Front Royal. This was the only road by which they could reach the
river, and the bridges at Front Royal were the only available points of
passage. Jackson, it appears, was therefore reluctant to leave
Cedarville, within easy reach of the bridges, until he received
information of his enemy’s designs, and that information, which had to
be sought at a distance, was naturally long in coming.
Criticism, after the event, is easy; but it certainly seems curious,
with his knowledge of Banks, that Jackson should have believed his
opponent capable of so bold a measure as retreat by way of Manassas
Gap. According to his own report, the feasibility of such a course did
cross Banks’ mind; but it might seem that on this occasion Jackson lost
an opportunity through over-caution. Nevertheless, in desperate
situations even the most inert characters are sometimes capable of
desperate resolutions.
Although for the time being Banks was permitted to extricate his
infantry from the toils, the remainder of his command was less
fortunate. The general and his brigades reached Winchester in safety,
but the road between that town and Strasburg was a scene of dire
disaster.
11.30 a.m. Steuart, with the 2nd and 6th Virginia, had struck Newton
before noon, and found a convoy of waggons strung out on the Valley
turnpike. A few shots threw everything into confusion. Many of the
teamsters deserted their posts, and fled towards Winchester or
Strasburg. Waggons were upset, several were captured, and others
plundered. But the triumph of the Confederates was short-lived. The
Federal infantry had already reached Middletown; and Banks sent forward
a regiment of cavalry and a brigade of infantry to clear the way.
Steuart was speedily driven back, and the Northerners resumed their
march.
12.15 p.m. At some distance behind the infantry came the Federal
cavalry, about 2,000 strong, accompanied by a battery and a small party
of Zouaves; but by the time this force reached Middletown, Ashby,
supported by the Louisiana brigade, had driven in the regiment hitherto
opposed to him, and, emerging from the forest, with infantry and guns
in close support, was bearing down upon the village. The batteries
opened upon the solid columns of the Federal horse. The Louisiana
regiments, deploying at the double, dashed forward, and the Northern
squadrons, penned in the narrow streets, found themselves assailed by a
heavy fire. A desperate attempt was made to escape towards Winchester,
and a whirling cloud of dust through which the sabres gleamed swept
northward up the turnpike. But Ashby’s horsemen, galloping across
country, headed off the fugitives; some of the Confederate infantry
drew an abandoned waggon across the road, and others ran forward to the
roadside fences. At such close quarters the effect of the musketry was
terrible. “In a few moments the turnpike, which had just before teemed
with life, presented a most appalling spectacle of carnage and
destruction. The road was literally obstructed with the mingled and
confused mass of struggling and dying horses and riders. Amongst the
survivors the wildest confusion ensued, and they scattered in disorder
in various directions, leaving some 200 prisoners in the hands of the
Confederates.”[19] Part
dashed back to Strasburg, where the teeming magazines of the Federal
commissaries were already blazing; and part towards the mountains,
flying in small parties by every country track. The rear regiments,
however, still held together. Drawing off westward, in the hope of
gaining the Middle road, and of making his way to Winchester by a
circuitous route, General Hatch, commanding the cavalry brigade,
brought his guns into action on a commanding ridge, about a mile west
of the highway, and still showed a front with his remaining squadrons.
Infantry were with them; more horsemen came thronging up; their numbers
were unknown, and for a moment they looked threatening. The Confederate
batteries trotted forward, and Taylor’s brigade, with the Stonewall and
Campbell’s in support, was ordered to attack; whilst Ashby, accompanied
by the Louisiana Tigers and two batteries, pursued the train of waggons
that was flying over the hills towards Winchester.
3 p.m. The question now to be solved was whether the cavalry was the
advanced or the rear guard of the Federal army. No message had arrived
from Steuart. But the people of Middletown supplied the information.
They reported that in addition to the convoy a long column of infantry
had passed through the village; and Jackson, directing his infantry to
follow Ashby, sent a message to Ewell to march on Winchester. Some
delay took place before the three brigades, which had now driven back
the Federal cavalry, could be brought back to the turnpike and
reformed; and it was well on in the afternoon when, with the Stonewall
regiments leading, the Confederate infantry pushed forward down the
pike.
The troops had been on their legs since dawn; some of them, who had
bivouacked south of Front Royal, had already marched sixteen miles, the
Federals had more than two hours’ start, and Winchester was still
twelve miles distant. But the enemy’s cavalry had been routed, and such
as remained of the waggons were practically without a guard. Ashby and
Steuart, with three fine regiments of Virginia cavalry, supported by
the
horse-artillery and other batteries, were well to the front, and “there
was every reason to believe,” to use Jackson’s own words, “that if
Banks reached Winchester, it would be without a train, if not without
an army.”
But the irregular organisation of the Valley forces proved a bar to the
fulfilment of Jackson’s hopes. On approaching Newtown he found that the
pursuit had been arrested. Two pieces of artillery were engaging a
Federal battery posted beyond the village, but the Confederate guns
were almost wholly unsupported. Ashby had come up with the convoy. A
few rounds of shell had dispersed the escort. The teamsters fled, and
the supply waggons and sutlers’ carts of the Federal army, filled with
luxuries, proved a temptation which the half-starving Confederates were
unable to resist. “Nearly the whole of Ashby’s cavalry and a part of
the infantry under his command had turned aside to pillage. Indeed the
firing had not ceased, in the first onset upon the Federal cavalry at
Middletown, before some of Ashby’s men might have been seen, with a
quickness more suitable to horse-thieves than to soldiers, breaking
from their ranks, seizing each two or three of the captured horses and
making off across the fields. Nor did the men pause until they had
carried their illegal booty to their homes, which were, in some
instances, at the distance of one or two days’ journey. That such
extreme disorders could occur,” adds Dabney, “and that they could be
passed over without a bloody punishment, reveals the curious
inefficiency of officers in the Confederate army.”[20]
Banks, when the pursuit had so suddenly ceased, had determined to save
the remnant of his train. Three regiments and a couple of batteries
were ordered back from Bartonsville, with Gordon in command; and this
rearguard had not only shown a formidable front, but had actually
driven the infantry that still remained with Ashby out of Newtown, and
into the woods beyond. General Hatch, who had regained the turnpike
with part of his brigade, had now come up; and the addition of six
squadrons of cavalry rendered Gordon’s force capable of stout
resistance. The Federals held a strong position. The Confederates had
present but 50 cavalry, 150 infantry, and 5 guns. Nor was there any
hope of immediate support, for the remainder of the troops were still
several miles in rear, and Steuart’s two regiments appear to have
rejoined General Ewell on the road for Nineveh.
Shortly before sunset the Confederate artillery was reinforced. The
Stonewall Brigade had also arrived upon the scene; and Gordon, firing
such waggons as he could not carry off, as well as the pontoons, fell
back on Winchester as the night closed in.
The Confederates had now marched from sixteen to twenty miles, and the
men had not eaten since the early morning. But Jackson had determined
to press the march till he was within striking distance of the hills
which stand round Winchester to the south. It was no time for repose.
The Federals had a garrison at Harper’s Ferry, a garrison at Romney,
detachments along the Baltimore and Ohio Railway; and Washington,
within easy distance of Winchester by rail, was full of troops.[21] A
few hours’ delay, and instead of Banks’ solitary division, a large army
might bar the way to the Potomac. So, with the remnant of Ashby’s
cavalry
in advance, and the Stonewall Brigade in close support, the column
toiled onward through the darkness. But the Federal rear-guard was
exceedingly well handled. The 2nd Massachusetts regiment held the post
of honour, and, taking advantage of stream and ridge, the gallant New
Englanders disputed every mile of road. At Bartonsville, where the
Opequon, a broad and marshy creek, crosses the turnpike, they turned
stubbornly at bay. A heavy volley, suddenly delivered, drove the
Confederate cavalry back in confusion on the infantry supports. The
33rd Virginia was completely broken by the rush of flying horsemen; the
guns were overridden; and Jackson and his staff were left alone upon
the turnpike. In the pitch darkness it was difficult to ascertain the
enemy’s numbers, and the flashes of their rifles, dancing along the top
of the stone walls, were the only clue to their position. The
Confederate column was ordered to deploy, and the Stonewall Brigade,
pushing into the fields on either flank, moved slowly forward over the
swampy ground. The stream proved an impassable obstacle both below and
above the Federal position; but the 27th Virginia, attacking the enemy
in front, drove them back and crossed to the further bank.
The pursuit, however, had been much delayed; and the Massachusetts
regiment, although ridden into by their own cavalry, fell back in good
order, protected by a strong line of skirmishers on either side of the
turnpike. The Confederate order of march was now changed. Three
companies, who were recruited from the district and knew the ground,
were ordered to the front. The 5th Virginia, four or five hundred yards
from the skirmish line, were to follow in support. The cavalry and guns
were left in rear; and the troops once more took up the line of march.
For more than an hour they tramped slowly forward. The darkness grew
more intense, and the chaff and laughter—for the soldiers, elated by
success, had hitherto shown no sign of fatigue—died gradually away.
Nothing was to be heard but the clang of accoutrements, the long rumble
of the guns, and the shuffle of weary feet. Men fell in the ranks,
overpowered by sleep or faint with hunger, and the
skirmishers, wading through rank fields of wheat and clover, stumbling
into ditches, and climbing painfully over high stone walls, made tardy
progress. Again and again the enemy’s volleys flashed through the
darkness; but still there was no halt, for at the head of the
regiments, peering eagerly into the darkness, their iron-willed
commander still rode forward, as regardless of the sufferings of his
men as of the bullets of the Federal rear-guard, with but one thought
present to his mind—to bring Banks to battle, and so prevent his escape
from Winchester. The student of Napoleon had not forgotten the pregnant
phrase: “Ask me for anything but time!” The indiscipline of Ashby’s
cavalry had already given Banks a respite; and, undisturbed by his
reverses, the Union general had shown himself capable of daring
measures. Had the Confederates halted at Newtown or at Bartonsville,
the troops would doubtless have been fresher for the next day’s work,
but the morning might have seen Banks far on his way to the Potomac, or
possibly strongly reinforced.
When the Confederate infantry had met and overthrown their enemy it
would be time enough to think of food and rest. So long as the men
could stand they were to follow on his traces. “I rode with Jackson,”
says General Taylor, “through the darkness. An officer, riding hard,
overtook us, who proved to be the chief quartermaster of the army. He
reported the waggon trains far behind, impeded by a bad road in the
Luray Valley. ‘The ammunition waggons?’ sternly. ‘All right, sir. They
were in advance, and I doubled teams on them and brought them through.’
‘Ah!’ in a tone of relief.
“To give countenance to the quartermaster, if such can be given on a
dark night, I remarked jocosely, ‘Never mind the waggons. There are
quantities of stores in Winchester, and the general has invited one to
breakfast there tomorrow.’ Jackson took this seriously, and reached out
to touch me on the arm. Without physical wants himself, he forgot that
others were differently constituted, and paid little heed to
commissariat. But woe to the man who failed
to bring up ammunition. In advance his trains were left behind. In
retreat he would fight for a wheelbarrow.”[22]
May 25 At Kernstown, behind Hogg Run, the Federal rear-guard halted for
the last time, but after a short engagement fell back on Winchester. It
was now three o’clock, an hour before dawn, and the Massachusetts men
became aware that the enemy had halted. Their skirmishers still pressed
slowly forward, and an occasional shot flashed out in the darkness. But
that noise which once heard on a still night is never forgotten, the
solid tramp of a heavy column on a hard road, like the dull roar of a
distant cataract, had suddenly died away. As the day broke the
Confederate advanced guard, passing Pritchard’s Hill and Kernstown
battlefield, struck the Federal pickets on Parkin’s Hill. In front was
a brook which goes by the name of Abraham’s Creek; beyond the brook
rose the ridge which covers Winchester, and Jackson at last permitted
his men to rest. The coveted heights were within easy grasp. The
Federal army was still in Winchester, and nothing now remained but to
storm the hills, and drive the enemy in panic from the town.
The Confederates, when the order was given to halt, had dropped where
they stood, and lay sleeping by the roadside. But their commander
permitted himself no repose. For more than an hour, without a cloak to
protect him from the chilling dews, listening to every sound that came
from the front, he stood like a sentinel over the prostrate ranks. As
the dawn rose, in a quiet undertone he gave the word to march. The
order was passed down the column, and, in the dim grey light, the men,
rising from their short slumbers, stiff, cold, and hungry, advanced to
battle.
Jackson had with him on the turnpike, for the most part south of
Kernstown, his own division, supported by the brigades of Scott and
Elzey and by nine batteries. About a mile eastward on the Front Royal
road was Ewell, with Trimble’s brigade and ten guns. This detachment
had moved on Winchester the preceding evening,
driving in the Federal pickets, and had halted within three miles of
the town. During the night Jackson had sent a staff officer with
instructions to Ewell. The message, although the bearer had to ride
nine-and-twenty miles, by Newton and Nineveh, had reached its
destination in good time; and as the Stonewall Brigade moved silently
past Pritchard’s Hill, Trimble’s brigade advanced abreast of it beyond
the intervening woods.
On both the Valley turnpike and the Front Royal road the Federals were
favoured by the ground, and their position, although the two wings were
widely separated, had been skilfully selected. On the turnpike and west
of it was Gordon’s brigade of four regiments, strengthened by eight
guns, and by a strong force of cavalry in reserve. Watching the Front
Royal road was Donnelly’s brigade, also of four regiments, with eight
guns and a few squadrons. The line of defence ran along a broken ridge,
lined in many places with stout stone walls, and protected in front by
the winding reaches of Abraham’s Creek.
Still, strong as was the Federal position, there was little chance of
holding it. Banks had been joined during the night by the larger
portion of his army, and by the garrison of Winchester, but he was
heavily outnumbered. At Front Royal and at Middletown he had lost over
1,500 men; part of his rear-guard had scattered in the mountains, and
it was doubtful if he could now muster more than 6,500 effective
soldiers. In infantry and artillery the Confederates were more than
twice his strength; in cavalry alone were they inferior.
Jackson’s plan of action was simple. His advanced guard was to hold
Gordon in position; and when Ewell fell on Donnelly, a heavy column
would move round Gordon’s right.
5 a.m. The Stonewall regiments led the way. The line of heights, west
of the turnpike and commanding Abraham’s Creek, was occupied by the
Federal outposts, and a general advance of the whole brigade, sweeping
across the brook and up the slopes, quickly drove in the pickets.
But the enemy, whether by skill or good fortune, had
occupied with his main line a position admirably adapted for an
inferior force. Four hundred yards beyond the ridge which the
Confederates had seized rose a second swell of ground; and eight rifled
guns, supported by the 2nd Massachusetts, swept the opposite height at
effective range.
Jackson immediately ordered up three batteries, posting them behind the
crest; and as the sun rose, drawing up the mist from the little stream,
a fierce duel of artillery began the battle.
6.30 a.m. The Confederate gunners, harassed by the enemy’s skirmishers,
and overwhelmed with shells, suffered heavily; one battery was
compelled to retire with a loss of 17 men and 9 horses; a second lost
all its officers; and it was not till near seven o’clock that the
enemy’s eight guns, with their infantry escort, were finally driven
back.
Ewell, meanwhile, had come into action on the right; but the mist was
heavy, and his advanced guard, received with a heavy fire from behind
the stone walls, was driven back with a loss of 80 officers and men.
Then the fog rose heavily, and for nearly an hour the engagement on
this wing died away.
8 a.m. About eight o’clock Ewell’s batteries again came into action,
and Trimble moved round to take the enemy in flank. But Jackson,
meanwhile, was bringing matters to a crisis on the left. The Federals
still held fast in front; but the Louisiana, Taliaferro’s, and Scott’s
brigades, retained hitherto with Elzey in reserve, were now ordered to
turn the enemy’s flank. Moving to the left in rear of the Stonewall
Brigade, these eleven regiments, three forming a second line, faced to
the front and climbed the heights.
General Gordon, in anticipation of such a movement, had already
transferred two regiments to his right. The fire of this force, though
delivered at close range, hardly checked the Confederate onset. Closing
the many gaps, and preserving an alignment that would have been
creditable on parade, Taylor and Taliaferro moved swiftly forward over
rocks and walls. The Federal infantry gave way in great disorder. The
cavalry in support essayed a charge, but the Confederates, as the
squadrons rode boldly
towards them, halted where they stood, and the rolling volleys of the
line of battle drove back the horsemen with many empty saddles. Then,
as Taylor resumed his advance, the Stonewall regiments, with Elzey in
close support, rose suddenly from their covert, and the whole line
swept forward across the ridges. The bright sun of the May morning,
dispersing the mists which veiled the field, shone down upon 10,000
bayonets; and for the first time in the Valley the rebel yell, that
strange fierce cry which heralded the Southern charge, rang high above
the storm of battle.
[Illustration: Map of the Battle of Winchester, Va., Sunday, May 25th,
1862.]
It was impossible, before so strong an onset, for the Federals to hold
their ground. Infantry, artillery, and cavalry gave way. From east,
west, and south the grey battalions converged on Winchester; and as the
enemy’s columns, covered by the heavy smoke, disappeared into the
streets, Jackson, no longer the imperturbable tactician, moving his
troops like the pieces on a chess-board, but the very personification
of triumphant victory, dashed forward in advance of his old brigade.
Riding recklessly down a rocky slope he raised himself in his stirrups,
and waving his cap in the direction of the retreating foe, shouted to
his officers to “Press forward to the Potomac!” Elzey’s, the reserve
brigade, was ordered to take up the pursuit; and within the town, where
the storehouses had been already fired, the battle was renewed. The
Federal regiments, with the exception of the 2nd Massachusetts, lost
all order in the narrow streets.[23] The roar of battle followed close;
and with the rattle of musketry, the crash of shells, and the loud
cries of the victors speeding their rapid flight, the Northern infantry
dispersed across the fields. As the Confederates passed through the
town, the people of Winchester, frantic with triumph after their two
months of captivity, rushed out from every doorway to meet the troops;
and with weeping and with laughter, with the 341 blessings of women and
the fierce shouts of men, the soldiers of the Valley were urged forward
in hot pursuit.
10 a.m. As they emerged from the town, and looked down upon the open
pastures through which the Martinsburg turnpike runs, they saw the
country before them covered with crowds of fugitives. Jackson, still in
advance, turned round to seek his cavalry. From the head of every
street eager columns of infantry were pouring, and, deploying without
waiting orders, were pushing hastily across the fields. But not a
squadron was in sight. Ashby, with the handful of men that still
remained with him, had ridden to Berryville, expecting that the enemy
would attempt to escape by Snicker’s Gap. Steuart, with the two
regiments that had done such service at Front Royal, was with Ewell and
Trimble; but although Donnelly’s regiments could be seen retiring in
good order, they were not followed by a single sabre.
Despatching an aide-de-camp to order Steuart to the front, Jackson
called up his batteries. The infantry, too, was hurried forward, in
order to prevent the Federals rallying. But after a rapid march of two
hours the interval between the Confederates and the enemy was still
increasing; and it was evident that without cavalry it was useless to
continue the pursuit. Not only was the infantry utterly exhausted, but
the horses of the artillery were worn out; and about five miles out of
Winchester the troops were ordered to halt and bivouac.[24] The
Federals, relieved from the pressure of the hostile fire, gradually
reformed their ranks; and Jackson, notwithstanding the extraordinary
exertions he had demanded from his troops, his own skilful manœuvres,
and the high spirit of his men, saw his opportunity pass away. His
impatience was almost uncontrollable. His staff was dispatched in all
directions to urge forward the remainder of the batteries. “We must
press them to the Potomac!” “Forward to the Potomac!” Such was the
tenor of every order; and at length, as the Federals disappeared in the
far distance, he ordered the
artillery teams to be unhitched, and the gunners, thus mounted, to
pursue the enemy. But before this strange substitute for cavalry had
moved out, the lagging squadrons arrived, and with a few fiery words
they were sent at speed down the Valley turnpike. But it was too late.
Banks, for the second time, was more fortunate than he deserved.
To the misconduct of Ashby’s troopers, and to the pedantic folly of
General Steuart, the escape of the Federal army must be attributed.
“Never have I seen an opportunity when it was in the power of cavalry
to reap a richer harvest of the fruits of victory. Had the cavalry
played its part in this pursuit as well as the four companies under
Colonel Flournoy two days before in the pursuit from Front Royal, but a
small portion of Banks’ army would have made its escape to the
Potomac.”
So runs Jackson’s official report, and when the disorganised condition
of the Federal battalions, as they fled north from Winchester, is
recalled, it is difficult to question the opinion therein expressed.
The precipitate retreat from Strasburg, accompanied by the loss of
waggons and of stores; the concentrated attack of overwhelming numbers,
followed by the disorderly rush through the streets of Winchester, had,
for the time being, dissolved the bonds of discipline. It is true that
some of the Federal regiments held together; but many men were missing;
some fell into the hands of the Confederates, others sought safety by
devious roads, and there can be little doubt but that those who fled to
the Potomac were for the time being utterly demoralised. Had they been
resolutely charged before they had reformed their ranks, their rifles
would no more have saved them from annihilation than they had saved
Kenly’s command at Cedarville.
But where was the cavalry? Ashby’s 50 men, all that he had been able to
collect, were far away upon the right; out of reach of orders, and in
any case too few for effective use. The two regiments under Steuart,
600 or 700 strong, were the force on which Jackson had depended, and
Steuart had shown himself
incapable of command. He had received Jackson’s message with the reply
that he could obey no orders unless they came through his immediate
superior.[25] Before Ewell could be found, precious time was wasted,
and two hours elapsed before the cavalry took up the chase. But the
Federals had now established strong rear-guards. The whole of their
cavalry, supported by artillery, had been ordered to cover the retreat;
and Steuart, although he picked up numerous prisoners, and followed as
far as Martinsburg, twenty-two miles north of Winchester, found no
opportunity for attack.
Halting for two and a half hours at Martinsburg, the Federals continued
their retreat at sunset, abandoning the magazines in the town to their
pursuers. Before midnight 3,000 or 4,000 men had arrived at
Williamsport, and by the ford and ferry, supplemented by a few pontoon
boats, the remnant of Banks’ army crossed the broad Potomac.
Although not a single Confederate squadron had followed him from
Martinsburg, the Northern general, elated by his unexpected escape,
spoke of this operation as if it had been carried out under heavy fire.
“It is seldom,” he reported, “that a river-crossing of such magnitude
is achieved (_sic_) with greater success.” But he added, with more
candour, “there were never more grateful hearts, in the same number of
men, than when at mid-day on the 26th we stood on the opposite shore;”
and then, with the loss of 2,000 men, a hundred waggons, the regimental
transport of his cavalry, nearly 800 sick, and a vast quantity of
stores, to traverse his assertion, he stated that his command “had not
suffered an attack or rout, but had accomplished a premeditated march
of near sixty miles in the face of the enemy, defeating his plans, and
giving him battle wherever he was found!’[26]
But the Northern people were not to be deceived. The truth was but too
apparent; and long before Banks had found leisure to write his report,
terror had taken possession of the nation. While the soldiers of the
Valley lay round Winchester, reposing from their fatigues, and regaling
themselves on the captured stores, the Governors of thirteen States
were calling on their militia to march to the defence of Washington.
Jackson had struck a deadly blow. Lincoln and Stanton were electrified
even more effectually than Banks. They issued an urgent call for more
troops. “There is no doubt,” wrote Stanton to the Governor of
Massachusetts, “that the enemy in great force are marching on
Washington.” In the cities of the North the panic was indescribable. As
the people came out of church the newsboys were crying, “Defeat of
General Banks! Washington in danger!” The newspaper offices were
surrounded by anxious crowds. In the morning edition of the _New York
Herald_ a leader had appeared which was headed “Fall of Richmond.” The
same evening it was reported that the whole of the rebel army was
marching to the Potomac. Troops were hurried to Harper’s Ferry from
Baltimore and Washington. The railways were ordered to place their
lines at the disposal of the Government. McDowell, on the eve of
starting to join McClellan, was ordered to lay aside the movement, and
to send half his army to the Valley.[27] Frémont, who was about to join
his column from the Great Kanawha, was called upon to support Banks.
McClellan was warned, by the President himself, that the enemy was
making a general movement northward, and that he must either attack
Richmond forthwith or come to the defence of Washington. A reserve
corps of 50,000 men was ordered to be organised at once, and stationed
permanently near the capital; and in one day nearly half a million
American citizens offered their services to save the Union.
Jackson’s success was as complete as it was sudden. The second
diversion against Washington was as effective as the first, and the
victory at Winchester even more prolific of results than the defeat at
Kernstown. Within four-and-twenty hours the storm-cloud which had been
gathering about Fredericksburg was dispersed. McDowell’s army of 40,000
men and 100 guns was scattered beyond the hope of speedy concentration.
McClellan, who had pushed forward his left wing across the
Chickahominy, suddenly found himself deprived of the support on which
he counted to secure his right; and Johnston, who had determined to
attack his opponent before that support should arrive, was able to
postpone operations until the situation should become more favourable.
Immediately after his victory Jackson had sent an officer to Richmond
with dispatches explaining his views, and asking for instructions. Lee,
in reply, requested him to press the enemy, to threaten an invasion of
Maryland, and an assault upon the Federal capital.
May 28 Early on the 28th, the Stonewall Brigade advanced towards
Harper’s Ferry. At that point, crowded with stores of every
description, 7,000 men and 18 guns, under General Saxton, had already
been assembled. At Charlestown, Winder’s advanced guard struck a
reconnoitring detachment, composed of two regiments, a section of
artillery, and a cavalry regiment. Within twenty minutes the Federals,
already demoralised by the defeat of Banks, were retiring in disorder,
abandoning arms, blankets, and haversacks, along the road, and the
pursuit was continued until their reserves were descried in strong
force on the Bolivar Heights, a low ridge covering Harper’s Ferry from
the south. The same evening Ewell advanced in support of Winder; and,
on the 29th, the Valley army was concentrated near Halltown, with the
exception of the Louisiana brigade, posted near Berryville, the 12th
Georgia, with 2 guns, in occupation of Front Royal, and Ashby, on the
road to Wardensville, watching Frémont.
During the afternoon the 2nd Virginia Infantry was sent across the
Shenandoah, and occupying the Loudoun
Heights, threatened the enemy’s position on the ridge below. Saxton, in
consequence, withdrew a part of his troops the same night to the left
bank of the Potomac; but Jackson, although Harper’s Ferry and its
magazines might easily have been taken, made no attempt to follow. His
scouts, riding far to east and west, had already informed him that
McDowell and Frémont were in motion to cut off his retreat. Shields’
division, leading McDowell’s advance from Fredericksburg, was
approaching Manassas Gap; while Frémont, hurrying from Franklin through
the passes of the North Mountain, was ten miles east of Moorefield.
Lee’s instructions had already been carried to the extreme point
consistent with safety, and Jackson determined to retreat by the Valley
turnpike. Not only was it the one road which was not yet closely
threatened, but it was the one road over which the enormous train of
captured stores could be rapidly withdrawn.[28]
May 29 The next morning, therefore, the main body of the army marched
back to Winchester; Winder, with the Stonewall Brigade and two
batteries, remaining before Harper’s Ferry to hold Saxton in check.
Jackson himself returned to Winchester by the railway, and on the way
he was met by untoward news. As the train neared Winchester a staff
officer, riding at a gallop across the fields, signalled it to stop,
and the general was informed that the 12th Georgia had been driven from
Front Royal, burning the stores, but not the bridges, at Front Royal,
and that Shields’ division was in possession of the village.
The situation had suddenly become more than critical. Front Royal is
but twelve miles from Strasburg. Not a single Confederate battalion was
within five-and-twenty miles of that town, and Winder was just twice as
far away. The next morning might see the Valley turnpike blocked by
10,000 Federals under Shields. Another 10,000, McDowell’s Second
Division, under General Ord, were already near Front Royal; Frémont,
with 15,000, was
pressing forward from the west; and Banks and Saxton, with the same
number, were moving south from the Potomac. With resolute management it
would seem that 35,000 Federals might have been assembled round
Strasburg by midday of the 31st, and that this force might have been
increased to 50,000 by the evening of June 1.[29] Desperate indeed
appeared the Confederate chances. The waggons which conveyed the spoils
of Martinsburg and Charlestown were still at Winchester, and with them
were more than 2,000 prisoners. With the utmost expedition it seemed
impossible that the Valley army, even if the waggons were abandoned,
could reach Strasburg before the evening of the 31st; and the Stonewall
Brigade, with fifty miles to march, would be four-and-twenty hours
later. Escape, at least by the Valley turnpike, seemed absolutely
impossible. Over Pharaoh and his chariots the waters were already
closing.
But there is a power in war more potent than mere numbers. The moral
difficulties of a situation may render the proudest display of physical
force of no avail. Uncertainty and apprehension engender timidity and
hesitation, and if the commander is ill at ease the movements of his
troops become slow and halting. And when several armies, converging on
a single point, are separated by distance or by the enemy, when
communication is tedious, and each general is ignorant of his
colleagues’ movements, uncertainty and apprehension are inevitable.
More than ever is this the case when the enemy has a character for
swiftness and audacity, and some unfortunate detachment is still
reeling under the effects of a crushing and unexpected blow.
Regarding, then, like Napoleon, the difficulties rather than the
numbers of his enemies, Jackson held fast to his purpose, and the
capture of Front Royal disturbed him little. “What news?” he asked
briefly as the staff officer rode up to the carriage door. “Colonel
Connor has been driven back from Front Royal.” Jackson smiled
grimly, but made no reply. His eyes fixed themselves apparently upon
some distant object. Then his preoccupation suddenly disappeared. He
read the dispatch which he held in his hand, tore it in pieces, after
his accustomed fashion, and, leaning forward, rested his head upon his
hands and apparently fell asleep. He soon roused himself, however, and
turning to Mr. Boteler, who tells the story, said: “I am going to send
you to Richmond for reinforcements. Banks has halted at Williamsport,
and is being reinforced from Pennsylvania. Dix (Saxton) is in my front,
and is being reinforced by the Baltimore and Ohio Railway. I have just
received a dispatch informing me of the advance of the enemy upon Front
Royal, which is captured, and Frémont is now advancing towards
Wardensville. Thus, you see, I am nearly surrounded by a very large
force.”
“What is your own, General?” asked his friend.
“I will tell you, but you must not repeat what I say, except at
Richmond. To meet this attack I have only 15,000 effective men.”
“What will you do if they cut you off, General?”
A moment’s hesitation, and then the cool reply: “I will fall back upon
Maryland for reinforcements.”
“Jackson,” says Cooke, “was in earnest. If his retreat was cut off he
intended to advance into Maryland, and doubtless make his way straight
to Baltimore and Washington, depending on the Southern sentiment in
that portion of the State to bring him reinforcements.” That the
Federal Government was apprehensive of some such movement is certain.
The wildest rumours were everywhere prevalent. Men throughout the North
wore anxious faces, and it is said that one question, “Where is
Jackson? Has he taken Washington?” was on every lip. The best proof,
however, that a movement on Washington was actually anticipated by the
Federals is the dispatch of the Secretary of War to the Governors of
the different States: “Send forward all the troops that you can,
immediately. Banks completely routed. Intelligence from various
quarters leaves no doubt that the enemy, in great force, are advancing
on Washington.
You will please organise and forward immediately all the volunteer and
militia force in your State.” Further, on receiving the news of Banks’
defeat, the President had called King’s division of McDowell’s army
corps to defend the capital; and his telegram of May 25 to McClellan,
already alluded to, in which that general was warned that he might have
to return to Washington, is significant of what would have happened had
the Confederates entered Maryland.[30] McClellan’s vast army, in all
human probability, would have been hurriedly re-embarked, and Johnston
have been free to follow Jackson.
May 31 On the night of the 30th the whole Army of the Valley was
ordered back to Strasburg; and early next morning the prisoners,
escorted by the 21st Virginia, and followed by the convoy of waggons in
double column, covering seven miles of road, led the way. Captain
Hotchkiss was sent with orders to Winder to hasten back to Winchester,
and not to halt till he had made some distance between that place and
Strasburg. “I want you to go to Charlestown,” were Jackson’s
instructions to his staff officer, “and bring up the First Brigade. I
will stay in Winchester until you get here, if I can, but if I cannot,
and the enemy gets here first, you must conduct it around through the
mountains.”
The march, however, as the general had expected, was made without
molestation, and during the afternoon the main body reached Strasburg,
and camped there for the night. The Stonewall Brigade, meanwhile, had
passed through Winchester, halting near Newtown; the 2nd Virginia
Regiment having marched thirty-five miles, and all the remainder
twenty-eight. Little had been seen of the enemy. Frémont had passed
Wardensville, and, marching through heavy rain, had halted after
nightfall at Cedar Creek, six miles west of Strasburg. On the road to
Front Royal, only a few scouts had been encountered by the Confederate
patrols, for Shields, deceived by a demonstration
which the Louisiana Brigade had made from Winchester, had let the day
pass by without a decisive movement. The difficulties on which Jackson
had counted had weighted the feet of his adversaries with lead.[31]
Frémont, with two-and-twenty miles to march, had suffered Ashby to
delay his progress; and although he had promised Lincoln that he would
be in Strasburg at five o’clock that evening, he had halted on the
mountains six miles distant. Shields, far ahead of the next division,
had done nothing more than push a brigade towards Winchester, and place
strong pickets on every road by which the enemy might approach. Neither
Federal general could communicate with the other, for the country
between them was held by the enemy. Both had been informed of the
other’s whereabouts, but both were uncertain as to the other’s
movements; and the dread of encountering, unsupported, the terrible
weight of Jackson’s onset had sapped their resolution. Both believed
the enemy far stronger than he really was. The fugitives from
Winchester had spread exaggerated reports of the Confederate numbers,
and the prisoners captured at Front Royal had by no means minimised
them.[32] Banks, impressed by the long array of bayonets that had
crowned the ridge at Winchester, rated them at 20,000 infantry, with
cavalry and artillery in addition. Geary, who had retired in hot haste
from Rectortown, burning his tents and stores, had learned, he
reported, from numerous sources that 10,000 cavalry were passing
through Manassas Gap. There were constant rumours that strong
reinforcements were coming up from Richmond, and even McDowell believed
that the army of invasion consisted of 25,000 to 30,000 men.
Frémont’s scouts, as he approached Strasburg, represented the
Confederate force at 30,000 to 60,000.” Shields, before he crossed the
Blue Ridge and found himself in the vicinity of his old opponent, had
condemned the panic that had seized his brother generals, and had told
McDowell that he would clear the Valley with his own division. But when
he reached Front Royal the force that he had scornfully described as
insignificant had swelled to 20,000 men. Troops from Richmond, he
telegraphed, were marching down the Luray Valley; and he urged that he
should be at once supported by two divisions. It cannot be said that
Lincoln and Stanton were to blame for the indecision of the generals.
They had urged Frémont forward to Strasburg, and Shields to Front
Royal. They had informed them, by the telegraph, of each other’s
situation, and had passed on such intelligence of the enemy’s movements
as had been acquired at Harper’s Ferry; and yet, although the
information was sufficiently exact, both Shields and Frémont, just as
Jackson anticipated, held back at the decisive moment. The waters had
been held back, and the Confederates had passed through them dry-shod.
Such is the effect of uncertainty in war; a mighty power in the hands
of a general who understands its scope.
June 1 On the morning of June 1, Jackson’s only remaining anxiety was
to bring Winder back, and to expedite the retreat of the convoy. Ewell
was therefore ordered to support Ashby, and to hold Frémont in check
until the Stonewall Brigade had passed through Strasburg. The task was
easily accomplished. At seven in the morning the Confederate pickets
were driven in. As they fell back on their supports, the batteries on
both sides came rapidly into action, and the Federal infantry pressed
forward. But musketry replied to musketry, and finding the road blocked
by a line of riflemen, Frémont ordered his troops to occupy a defensive
position on Cedar Creek. “I was entirely ignorant,” he says, “of what
had taken place in the Valley beyond, and it was now evident that
Jackson, in superior force, was at or near Strasburg.” His men, also,
appear to have caught the spirit of irresolution, for a forward
movement on the part of the Confederates drove in Blenker’s Germans
with the greatest ease. “Sheep,” says General Taylor, “would have made
as much resistance as we met. Men decamped without firing, or threw
down their arms and surrendered. Our whole skirmish line was, advancing
briskly. I sought Ewell and reported. We had a fine game before us, and
the temptation to play it was great; but Jackson’s orders were
imperative and wise. He had his stores to save, Shields to guard
against, Lee’s grand strategy to promote. He could not waste time
chasing Frémont.”[33]
Winder reached Strasburg about noon. The troops that had been facing
Frémont were then withdrawn; and the whole force, now reunited, fell
back on Woodstock; Ashby, with the cavalry, holding his old position on
Tom’s Brook. The retreat was made in full view of the Federal scouts.
On the Confederates retiring from before him, Frémont had pushed
forward a reconnaissance, and Bayard’s cavalry brigade, of McDowell’s
army, came up in the evening on the other flank. But attack was
useless. The Confederate trains were disappearing in the distance, and
heavy masses of all arms were moving slowly south. The Federal horsemen
were unsupported save by a single battery. McDowell, who had reached
Front Royal with part of his Second Division in the morning, had
endeavoured to push Shields forward upon Strasburg. But Shields,
fearing attack, had dispersed his troops to guard the various roads;
and when at last they were assembled, misled by erroneous information,
he had directed them on Winchester. Before the mistake was discovered
the day had passed away. It was not until the next morning that the
Federal columns came into communication, and then Jackson was already
south of Woodstock.
On Friday morning, May 29, says Allan, “Jackson was in front of
Harper’s Ferry, fifty miles from Strasburg. Frémont was at Fabius,
twenty miles from Strasburg; and Shields was not more than twenty miles
from Strasburg, for his advance entered Front Royal, which is but
twelve miles distant, before mid-day, while McDowell was
following with two divisions. Yet by Sunday night Jackson had marched
between fifty and sixty miles, though encumbered with prisoners and
captured stores, had reached Strasburg before either of his
adversaries, and had passed safely between their armies, while he held
Frémont at bay by a show of force, and blinded and bewildered Shields
by the rapidity of his movements.”
From the morning of May 19 to the night of June 1, a period of fourteen
days, the Army of the Valley had marched one hundred and seventy miles,
had routed a force of 12,500 men, had threatened the North with
invasion, had drawn off McDowell from Fredericksburg, had seized the
hospitals and supply depots at Front Royal, Winchester,[34] and
Martinsburg, and finally, although surrounded on three sides by 60,000
men, had brought off a huge convoy without losing a single waggon.
This remarkable achievement, moreover, had been comparatively
bloodless. The loss of 618 officers and men was a small price to pay
for such results.[35]
That Jackson’s lucky star was in the ascendant there can be little
doubt. But fortune had far less to do with his success than skill and
insight; and in two instances—the misconduct of his cavalry, and the
surprise of the 12th Georgia—the blind goddess played him false. Not
that he trusted to her favours. “Every movement throughout the whole
period,” says one of his staff officers, “was the result of profound
calculation. He knew what his men could do, and to whom he could
entrust the execution of important orders.”[36] Nor was his danger of
capture, on his retreat from Harper’s Ferry, so great as it appeared.
May 31 was the crisis of his operations. On that morning, when the
prisoners and the convoy marched out of Winchester, Shields was at
Front Royal. But Shields
was unsupported; Ord’s division was fifteen miles in rear, and Bayard’s
cavalry still further east. Even had he moved boldly on Strasburg he
could hardly have seized the town. The ground was in Jackson’s favour.
The only road available for the Federals was that which runs south of
the North Fork and the bridges had been destroyed. At that point, three
miles east of Strasburg, a small flank-guard might have blocked the way
until the main body of the Confederates had got up. And had Frémont,
instead of halting that evening at Cedar Creek, swept Ashby aside and
pushed forward to join his colleague, the Valley army might easily have
effected its retreat. Winder alone would have been cut off, and Jackson
had provided for that emergency.
When the embarrassments under which the Federals laboured are laid
bare, the passage of the Confederates between the converging armies
loses something of its extraordinary character. Nevertheless, the
defeat of the Front Royal garrison and the loss of the bridges was
enough to have shaken the strongest nerves. Had Jackson then burnt his
convoy, and released his prisoners, few would have blamed him; and the
tenacity with which he held to his original purpose, the skill with
which he imposed on both Shields and Frémont, are no less admirable
than his perception of his opponents’ difficulties. Well has it been
said: “What gross ignorance of human nature do those declaimers display
who assert that the employing of brute force is the highest
qualification of a general!”
NOTE
POSITION OF THE TROOPS, MAY 29 TO JUNE 1
_Night of May 29_
FEDERALS CONFEDERATES McDowell
Shields, 10,200, Rectorstown.
Ord, 9,000, Thoroughfare Gap.
Bayard, 2,000. Catlett’s Station.
Frémont, 15,000, Fabius.
Saxton, 7,000, Harper’s Ferry.
Banks, 7,000, Williamsport.
Geary, 2,000, Middleburg. Jackson’s Division, 7,200, Halltown.
Ewell’s Division, 5,000, Halltown.
Ashby. 800, Wardensville road.
Taylor’s Brigade, 8,000, Berryville.
12th Georgia Regiment, 460, Front Royal.
2nd Virginia Regiment, 860, Loudoun Heights.
_Night of May 30_
FEDERALS CONFEDERATES McDowell
Shields, 10,200, Front Royal.
Ord, 9,000, Piedmont.
Bayard, 2,000,
Thoroughfare Gap.
King, 10,000,
near Catlett’s Station.
Saxton, 7,000, Harper’s Ferry.
Banks, 8,600, Williamsport.
Freémont, 15,000, Wardensville.
Geary, 2,000, Upperville. Army of Valley, 13,850, Winchester.
Stonewall Brigade, 1,600, Halltown.
2nd Virginia Regiment, 380,
Loudoun Heights.
Ashby, 300, Wardensville Road.
_Night of May 31_
FEDERALS CONFEDERATES McDowell
Shields, Front Royal.
Ord, Manassas Gap.
King, Catlett’s Station.
Bayard, Manassas Gap.
Saxton, Harper’s Ferry.
Banks, Williamsport.
Frémont, Cedar Creek.
Geary, Snicker’s and Ashby’s Gaps. Army of Valley, Strasburg.
Stonewall Brigade, Newtown.
Ashby, Cedar Creek.
_Night of June 1_
FEDERALS CONFEDERATES McDowell
Shields, ten miles south of
Front Royal.
Ord, Front Royal.
King, Haymarket.
Bayard, Buckton.
Saxton, Harper’s Ferry.
Banks, Williamsport.
Frémont, Cedar Creek.
Geary, Snicker’s and Ashby’s Gaps. Army of Valley, Woodstock. Ashby,
Tom’s Brook.
TOTAL STRENGTH
Federal 62,000
Confederate 16,000
[1] General A. S. Johnston.
[2] Directly McClellan closed in on Richmond, McDowell was ordered, as
soon as Shields should join him, to march from Manassas to his
assistance. Lincoln and Stanton had recovered confidence when Jackson
returned to the Valley from Mechum’s Station.
[3] This estimate is Colonel Allan’s. Cf _The Valley Campaign,_ pp.
92, 93. Dabney gives 16,000 men.
[4] _Destruction and Reconstruction,_ General R. Taylor pp. 38, 39.
[5] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 890.
[6] _Destruction and Reconstruction,_ pp. 52, 53.
[7] _Ibid,_ p. 37.
[8] _Destruction and Reconstruction,_ pp. 54–6.
[9] Compare instructions to Ewell, _ante,_ p. 281.
[10] O.R., vol. xii, part iii, p. 201.
[11] O.R., vol. xii, part i, pp. 523, 560.
[12] Dabney, vol. ii, p. 95.
[13] The ingenuous report of a Federal officer engaged at Front Royal
is significant of the effect of the sudden attack of the Confederates.
He was sick at the time, but managed to escape. “By considerable
coaxing,” he wrote, “I obtained an entrance to a house near by. I was
now completely broken down—so much so that the gentleman prepared a
liniment for me, and actually bound up some of my bruises, while the
female portion of the household actually screamed for joy at our
defeat! I was helped to bed, and next morning was taken by Mr. Bitzer
to Winchester in his carriage. He is a gentleman in all particulars,
but his family is the reverse (_sic_). On reaching Winchester I found
things decidedly squally, and concluded to get out. I was carried to
Martinsburg, and being offered by the agent of a luggage train to take
me to Baltimore, I concluded to accept the offer, and took a sleeping
bunk, arriving in Baltimore the next afternoon.” He then proceeded to
Philadelphia, and sent for his physician. Several of his officers whom
he found in the town he immediately sent back to the colours; but as
he believed that “the _moral_ of his regiment was not as it should be”
he remained himself in Philadelphia.
[14] Dabney, vol. ii, pp. 93, 94. It may be recalled that Wellington
found it necessary to form a corps of the same kind in the Peninsular
War; it is curious that no such organisation exists in regular armies.
[15] _From Brook Farm to Cedar Mountain,_ pp. 191, 192.
[16] Article in _Harper’s Weekly_ by Colonel Strother, aide-de-camp to
General Banks.
[17] Jackson’s Report. O.R., vol. xii, part i, p. 703.
[18] The supply waggons were still eight miles south of Front Royal,
in the Luray Valley.
[19] Jackson’s Report. O.R., vol. xii, part i, p. 704.
[20] Dabney, vol. ii, pp. 101–2. “The difficulty,” says General
Taylor, speaking of the Confederate cavalry, “of converting raw men
into soldiers is enhanced manifold when they are mounted. Both man and
horse require training, and facilities for rambling, with temptation
to do so, are increased. There was little time, and it may be said
less disposition, to establish camps of instruction. Living on
horseback, fearless and dashing, the men of the South afforded the
best possible material for cavalry. They had every quality but
discipline, and resembled Prince Charming, whose manifold gifts were
rendered useless by the malignant fairy. Assuredly our cavalry
rendered much excellent service, especially when dismounted; and such
able officers as Stuart, Hampton, and the younger Lees in the east,
Forrest, Green, and Wheeler in the West, developed much talent for
war; but their achievements, however distinguished, fell far below the
standard that would have been reached had not the want of discipline
impaired their efforts.”—_Destruction and Reconstruction,_ pp. 70–71.
It is only fair to add, however, that the Confederate troopers had to
supply their own horses, receiving no compensation for their loss by
disease or capture. This in some measure excuses their anxiety to loot
as many chargers as they could lay hands on.
[21] Twenty regiments of infantry and two regiments of cavalry. O.R.,
vol. xii, part iii, p. 313.
[22] _Destruction and Reconstruction,_ p. 65.
[23] Banks’ aide-de-camp, Colonel Strother, says, “For several minutes
it looked like the commencement of a Bull Run panic. The stragglers,”
he adds, “rapidly increased in numbers, and many threw down their
arms.” _Harper’s Weekly._ See also Jackson’s Report, O.R., vol. xii,
part i, p. 706.
[24] The greater part of the troops had marched over thirty miles in
thirty hours, during which time they had been almost continuously
engaged.
[25] Jackson’s Report.
[26] Some of Banks’ officers shared his opinion. The captain of the
Zouaves d’Afrique, the general’s body-guard, who had been cut off at
Strasburg, but rejoined on the Potomac, reported that, “incredible as
it may appear, my men marched 141 miles in 47 hours, as measured by
Captain Abert,” and concluded by congratulating Banks upon the success
of his “unparalleled retreat.” The Zouaves, at all events, could not
complain that they had been excluded from “active operations.” Another
officer declared that “we have great reason to be grateful to kind
Providence, and applaud the skill and energy of our commanding
officers for the miraculous escape of our men from utter
annihilation.” O.R., vol. xii, part i, pp. 573, 611.
[27] Shields’ and Ord’s divisions of infantry, and Bayard’s brigade of
cavalry, numbering all told 21,200 officers and men.
[28] Jackson, although the harvest was in full swing, had given orders
that all waggons in the valley were to be impressed and sent to
Winchester and Martinsburg.
[29] For the distribution of the different forces during this period
see Note at end of chapter.
[30] O.R., vol. xi, part i, p. 81. King’s division, when it was found
that Jackson had halted near Winchester, was ordered to Front Royal.
The fourth division, McCall’s, was left to defend Fredericksburg.
[31] Up to the time that they arrived within striking distance of
Jackson they had acted vigorously, Shields marching eighty miles in
five days, and Frémont seventy over a mountain road.
[32] According to the Official Records, 156 men were taken by General
Shields. It is said that when Colonel Connor, in command of the 12th
Georgia Regiment, reported to Jackson at Winchester, and gave rather a
sensational account of his defeat, the General looked up, and asked in
his abrupt manner: “Colonel, how many men had you killed?” “None, I am
glad to say, General.” “How many wounded?” “Few or none, sir.” “Do you
call that fighting, sir?” said Jackson, and immediately placed him
under arrest, from which he was not released for several months.
[33] _Destruction and Reconstruction,_ p. 78.
[34] Quartermaster’s stores, to the value of £25,000, were captured at
Winchester alone, and 9,354 small arms, besides two guns, were carried
back to Staunton.
[35] 68 killed; 386 wounded; 3 missing; 156 captured.
[36] Letter from Major Hotchkiss.